Homeboy
by Mikell
Summary: Loyalty takes on a different when you have a brother, and most people don't understand how far a person will go to get their brother back. A story about being brothers, second chances, and finding your way home. Rated for some  minor  language. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Runner

**A/N: Many thanks to my amazing beta-readers, Melody Winters, DuckiePray and FairDrea. You gals, as always, rock the Turtle-verse, and my chaotic little world. **

**Readers, be sure to check out _Fated Destinies_, a story from Melody Winters of how Splinter's little family became heroes long before they were ninjas, and _Refuge, _a heart-wrenching new installment in the DuckiePray's ongoing Turtle saga. And, if you like a little something extra, like a _smokin'_ hot Beetlejuice/Lydia fic, sidle on over to BJ's page and look for FairDrea's _Haunting Temptation_. :)**

**And thanks to owners and creators of the TMNT for allowing us to play with their characters via Fanfiction... **

**Finally, a tip of the hat to country singer Eric Church, whose song, _Homeboy_ inspired this fic, and whose title I blatantly borrowed because it fit too perfectly not to use it. It's a great "brother" song, and I highly recommend you check it out. The lyrics are in italics at the beginning of each chapter.  
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><p><em>You were too bad for a little square town<br>with your hip-hop hat and your pants on the ground…_

_**~Runner**_~

"Looks like we got a runner!" Raph called over his shoulder as he casually struck out with his free hand, stopping the Purple Dragon rushing him with a palm-strike to the chin. With his other hand, he grabbed a bunch of shirt and hurled a second gang member across the alley, landing him into the dumpster as neatly as Shaq sinking a slam-dunk.

"Don't let him get away!" Don's voice was urgent. "He's the one with the device!"

Raphael nodded. "I got 'im."

"Raph, wait!" Leonardo barely turned from the PD he'd just dropped with a dragon punch to address his brother. One of the other gang members took the opportunity provided by the instant of distraction to leap onto his shell from behind.

"Leo!" Donatello's bo snapped out, knocking the man aside with a _crack_ as Michelangelo's nunchucks whizzed through the air, taking down one who was circling him with a lead pipe.

"Night-night, Dude," he crowed.

The remaining gang members were already backing down, wavering.

_Dey got dis. I'm gonna get dat kid._ Raphael was up the fire escape, racing across the rooftop to cut the boy off before Leonardo could call him back again.

The kid was tearing down the dark street, his denim jacket showing up clearly under the streetlights as he ran. Raph paced him easily, barely trying to keep up. He paused on top of a building two alleys from where he'd left his brothers to clean up the remaining gang members. He watched as the boy passed, glancing nervously over his shoulder every few paces.

_One good scare oughta do it,_ thought Raph with satisfaction, watching the boy slip through a broken door and into an abandoned building. _He'll hand over dat little thingamajig. I won't even hafta rough him up. Too bad. Oh well, we got a pretty good work out in tonight already._

He swung over the side, shimmying down the fire escape with the ease of thousands of repetitions. Raph didn't bother drawing his sai as he slipped through the door the boy had just used. The kid had been bold in the fight, and lighter on his feet than some of the older gang members.

_Too bad he ain't too bright,_ thought Raph idly as he moved silent as the shadows that hid his form further into the building.

_Hookin' up wit' da PD's is about as dumb as it gets._

The boy was what was known in the gangs as a "mule". He wasn't carrying drugs, as far as Raph knew, but the tiny device the PD's had stolen was in his pocket, and Raphael wasn't about to let him escape with it.

_What's it do, Donny?_ Michelangelo's blue eyes had been wide as he asked the question, confusion and amusement warring, as usual, for supremacy in his gaze.

_In the wrong hands, Mikey, it could cause the complete destruction of about five city blocks,_ Donatello explained patiently.

_You mean it blows stuff up?_

_Exactly._

_Guess we'd better not let Hun have it then huh?_

_No, Mikey, that would be bad._

With those dry words, they'd leapt into the battle. Leo led the charge, as always, dropping like a wraith into the alley, blocking the gang members' way out. He'd challenged them, given them a chance to give up, to surrender the device peacefully. Raphael rolled his eyes. He swore his brother _enjoyed_ giving the stupid punks a chance to surrender, relished their refusal to stand down.

_Suppose it has ta do wit' da honor o' da t'ing,_ he thought. _Not attackin' 'em wit'out givin' 'em a chance ta surrender._

A movement to his right had him crouching, instinctively resting his hand on the pommel of his sai, though he didn't draw the weapons. Not yet.

He shifted through the darkness, certain the kid didn't know he was there. He hadn't made a sound entering the building, and he could hear the kid's hesitant shuffling as he searched for another way out. He wasn't moving with the wary caution of stalked prey. He was working his way methodically along a far wall. Raph could hear his hands brushing the cinder-block wall as he tried to feel for a door.

_Dat's right, kid. Keep searchin'. _

Raphael was so intent on moving in silently on the boy, he never heard the faint moan of elderly concrete giving way. It wasn't until there was a sharp _creeeeeeeak_ that he looked up, and by then it was far too late.


	2. Chapter 2 Carl

**A/N: My profile has been updated with the addition of links to some absolutely stunning fan-art by ArtyChick of scenes from my recent romance fic, _Leonardo's Angel_. Pop on over to DA and show this extremely talented artist some love! **

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><p><em>Heard you cussed out momma, pushed daddy around…<br>You tore off in his car  
><em>

_**Chapter 2 ~Carl~**_

Carl Robinson eased his truck down the congested street. He glanced uneasily at the buildings, searching. He nearly missed seeing the tarnished brass numbers against the graffiti marring the scarred brick front of the apartment building, but Carl had spent much of his young life learning to spot the dull brown flash of a deer's coat amongst the trees. The number was obscured but visible.

Carl let out a sigh of relief as he rolled into the only available spot. He hopped out, narrowly avoiding annihilation by a yellow cab whose horn blared as it skimmed past the open truck door. Carl swore under his breath and slammed the door, moving hastily off the pavement to the relative safety of the sidewalk.

Shaking his head, he headed for the building, his nose wrinkling at the stale, sour odor that seemed to cling to the door. He reached for the knob, frowning when he found it firmly locked. He shook the doorknob, but it refused to budge. Carl eyed the heavy wooden door, considering his options. He noticed a row of buttons beside the door, each marked with a stained, faded label.

_Smith… Chang… Dietres… Jones!_ Carl pushed the button next to the familiar black handwriting, smiling as he did so.

"_Yeah? Whatdaya want?"_

The voice took Carl back ten years. He couldn't keep the chuckle down as he answered. "Jones, you old greenhorn, open this damned fortress and let me in!"

"_Carl? Carl Robinson, is dat yous_?"

Carl grinned at the way his friend's vowels ran together. _His accent always did get thicker when he was excited,_ he thought fondly.

"Yeah, it's me. Now let me in, before the bears get me!"

Carl heard the bark of laughter through the tinny speaker before a buzz and click drowned it out. He turned the knob, giving it a shove, and the door relented with an almost audible sigh of defeat. He stepped into a narrow, smelly alcove leading to a narrow, smelly stairway. He started up, reaching for the railing but thinking the better of touching it, when a figure appeared from one of the row of doors at the top of the stairs.

"Carl? Is dat really yous?"

"Casey Jones! You city boy!" Carl thundered up the last few steps, rushing to clasp the offered hand.

On impulse, he reached further, grabbing Casey's wrist and twisting the man's arm into a submission hold they'd used on one another as boys. He saw the shocked spark in Casey's blue eyes an instant too late, and before he had time to regret playing a joke on his old friend, he found himself flying through the air. The floor came up too fast, knocking the wind from his lungs. Almost immediately, Casey was on his knees next to him.

"Are you ok? Geez, Carl, I'm sorry, man…"

"Casey, you damn fool!" Carl laughed, and coughed as his tortured lungs struggled to draw in sufficient air. "You learned some new tricks, you old dog!"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout dat." Casey was sheepish now. "Didn't mean ta throw ya like dat. Guess I don't know my own strength."

Carl got to his feet, grinning widely. "Guess you've grown a little since you were a scrawny Fresh Air Fund city kid spending summers on our farm," he teased. He held out his hand again, and this time Casey grasped it firmly, pumping it for all it was worth. Carl leaned in, slapping him on the back. "Look at you. All grown up. And you've been working out." He gave Casey a friendly punch to a solidly muscular shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, kinda." Casey chuckled a shade uneasily. "Ya sure yer ok, Carl? I didn't mean ta throw ya like dat…"

"Oh hell, you can't hurt an old farm boy like me," Carl retorted. "I been kicked by tougher cows than you, Casey Jones."

"I doubt it." Casey shook his head. "Come on. Da place ain't much but I got a couple beers in da fridge."

"I heard that."

Carl followed his old friend into a dingy little apartment, rolling his shoulder to take out the stiffness where he'd hit the floor. He didn't comment on the shabby state of the faded couch or the bent antenna on the television that looked like it'd been snapped off and reattached with ductape. His own furnishings at home were no more elegant. A small pile of wires and odd-shaped plastic bits lay on the table.

"What'd you break?" he asked curiously, pointing.

"Oh! Uh, not'in. Dat's my buddy Don's stuff. Guess he left it here." Casey's laugh sounded forced. Carl glanced at him, but the man was already turning to an ancient, dented refrigerator and pulling out two brown bottles. He handed one to Carl, who accepted it gratefully. Carl twisted off the cap and took a swig before looking around his friend's meager apartment.

"You're still playing hockey?" he asked, surprised to see what looked like a golf bag stuffed with athletic equipment propped in a corner. A battered hockey mask hung untidily from the strap.

Casey shook his head. "Nope. Not since I busted up my leg," he said. He took a pull from his beer.

"This stuff's just for old time's sake then?" Carl studied the man. He saw the slight color that was creeping up his neck, the way Casey's gaze flicked around the apartment, assessing, as if he were trying to see it through someone else's eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Old time's sake." Casey coughed slightly, shifting.

_You always were a bad liar, Casey Jones,_ thought Carl affectionately. _ Well, if you don't want to explain why you've got a bag of beat up old sports equipment, I won't keep asking. Knowing you, you're teaching the neighborhood kids to play or something and don't want me to know. Got to keep that reputation, right?_

A slight frown creased his brow at the thought. _John wanted a reputation, too. Always was tryin' ta impress people._

"So, what brung ya ta da city, anyway?"

Casey was watching him, curious, but there was something new in his eyes, a new maturity, a wariness that Carl didn't remember being there before.

_I guess Johnny's not the only one who's changed,_ thought Carl. A heavy sadness threatened to weigh on his chest, and suddenly he was uncertain of his errand.

"Well, to be honest Case, now that I'm here, I wonder if this was a good idea," he confessed slowly, taking another pull on his beer.

"Carl." Casey Jones sank down on the ancient couch and patted the cushion next to his. "Sit down. Relax. Have another beer. Tell me what's goin' on."

Carl did as he was bid, sinking into the seat. Something jabbed his thigh sharply enough that he stood up again quite suddenly. The offending object clattered to the floor. Carl felt cautiously where he'd been poked and was startled to find a finger-tip sized hole in the leg of his pants.

"Are ya ok? What happened?" Casey was staring as if he'd lost his mind.

"I think… I sat on something." Carl sank down again, cautiously this time. He leaned over, searching, and spotted a blade, just visible where it had slid partway under the couch. Cautiously, he took the tip and slid it out. "Is this… a throwing star?"

"Aw damn… Leo said he lost a shuriken before… I didn't t'ink it was in da couch," grumbled Casey. He took the deadly-looking object carefully from Carl. "Sorry 'bout dat."

"It's uh, ok," said Carl, shaking his head. _His friends carry throwing stars? Casey Jones, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into? I know the City is different from home but throwing stars?… Still. I did ask for your help, and I do need it._

"Carl." Casey broke into his thoughts, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I know ya didn't come all dis way jus' ta sit on my couch an' drink beer. What's goin' on?"

Carl studied his friend's face. There were a couple new scars, and he'd grown, changed. _Hardened,_ Carl realized with a jolt. The wariness he'd seen was set into the lines on Casey's face. When he met the blue eyes, though, the old Casey was looking back at him with the same guileless honesty he'd always had.

_He's grown up,_ thought Carl, _and yeah, maybe he has some secrets he's not telling me, but he's still my friend. I did come here looking for help, and it wouldn't be fair to turn away now that he's offering it._

"Well, it's kind of complicated, Case."

"Complicated how?" Casey's gaze never wavered, though his frown deepened. "'Cause if it's da farm, ya know I don't know not'in about cows an' stuff, 'cept dat one end bites an' da other kicks an' craps on ya."

Carl laughed, he couldn't help it. He remembered Casey's first, and last, disastrous attempt at milking a cow very clearly. He remembered his younger brother, John, falling over himself laughing at the city boy who managed to tick ol' Jess, the milk cow, off to the point she actually did try to bite him.

Carl frowned and let out a deep, heavy breath. "It's John, Casey."

"Little Johnny?" Casey blinked. "Yer brother? The little twerp…" He grinned. "How's he doin'? What's goin' on wit' him?"

"Well, that's the thing, Case. I don't rightly know what Johnny's doing these days," said Carl. The words felt like lead, weighing down his tongue, but letting them out was a relief. "He came to the city about a year ago. You know how he was, always looking for new ways to make money…"

"New ways ta avoid workin'." Casey snorted. "Kid was a little weasel. No offense."

Carl laughed. It felt good to laugh, to let go of some of the tension that had been weighing him down for so long.

"You remember that other Fresh Air Fund kid, the one John always hung around with? Dan?"

"Yeah." Casey's eyes narrowed. "He was trouble, dat one."

Carl nodded, but Casey wasn't done. "Served him right, gettin' busted."

"Busted? For what? I didn't know you kept in touch with him."

"I didn't," said Casey. White teeth flashed in a slightly feral smile, and it sent a shiver chasing down Carl's spine. "Not socially 'r anyt'in. He was runnin' wit' a local gang, da Purple Dragons, an' he got busted las' week. Once he gets outta da hospital, he'll be spendin' a long time in jail fer B&E."

"Out of the… how do you know all that?" Carl studied his friend.

"Uh, read it in da paper. I guess he busted in on da wrong people," said Casey a little too quickly. He stood up, stretching. "Listen, tell Johnny ta stay away from dat guy an' his crew. They're not'in but trouble. Them Purple Dragons, they're a gang. Bunch a scum-suckin…" Casey trailed off. He paced to the golf bag and snatched up the mask. Carl saw him finger the edge, as if testing a knife blade. "They're trouble, Carl. Jus' keep Johnny away from 'em."

Carl sighed. "I'm afraid it might be too late for that, Casey."


	3. Chapter 3 Collapse

_Here you are runnin' these dirty old streets  
>Tattoo on your neck, fake gold on your teeth<br>_

_**Chapter 3 ~Collapse**_~

Raphael's first indication that he wasn't already dead was the pain in his chest. His father had long ago taught him and his brothers how to control pain, to redirect their chi, to help the pain flow, ebbing out of the body, set apart as an illusion, but sometimes Raph embraced it. Sometimes pain was the only way you knew you were still alive.

Carefully, he drew a slow, deep breath. His lungs were screaming for oxygen but he knew from experience that sucking in a sudden breath could set off a painful coughing fit. This time, however, his chest moved with only the lingering ache of bruising, not the sharp twinge of a cracked rib. Experimentally, he shifted and found his limbs in working order.

_T'ank shell fer dat, at least,_ he thought with a grimace.

Something warm trickled down his jaw and he lifted a hand to wipe it away. That's when he discovered the large, solid object that was lying across his plastron. Grunting in annoyance, he put a hand on it carefully, feeling. It was cool and smooth under his fingers, and unyielding when he gave it an experimental shove.

_Huh. Feels like… a beam. Oh shell._

Raphael blinked in the darkness, his vision adjusting to the lack of light. He could just make out the faint glow of a large patch of moonlight above. And were those… stars? Raph blinked again, staring. Sure enough, he could see the stars… through the roof that was no longer there.

'_Cause it's layin' across my chest,_ thought Raph bitterly. He shifted, testing the weight of the beam. It didn't budge, but neither did he. A faint growl rumbled in his throat as he began to struggle in earnest, wriggling to get out from under the beam.

A creaking _groan_ froze his blood. He felt an ominous vibration through the beam. After a few seconds the vibration and noise stopped, but Raph wasn't about to test the stability of the heavy beam again until he was certain it wasn't going to slide off of some support and crush him. The slight movement had already increased the pressure on his plastron. He cursed mentally.

_They'll come. They always do. Donny'll find a way ta get dis t'ing offa me, _he thought, forcing himself to breathe slowly and evenly. He shifted experimentally, and found he could move only an inch or so before the beam began vibrating ominously again. Raph fought down his normal instinct to fight, to push on the beam and force his way out. When the old Lair had collapsed, Donatello had insisted on giving them all a lecture on what to do if they found themselves trapped under debris.

_Don't try to dig your way out. Let us come to you_. He could hear his genius brother's voice in his head. _Digging can cause the material to shift. You've got to keep the pocket open, so you have air._

There'd been more, of course. What to do if help didn't seem to be coming right away, if you _had_ to dig your way out. Raph had only half listened. None of them would ever be left to fend for themselves, he knew. They were brothers. They would always come for each other.

A soft shuffling noise had him shifting almost involuntarily. He stifled the urge to cry out, to call to his brothers, to let them know where he was. They would call to him, he knew, when it was safe to do so, when there was no danger of nearby humans overhearing. He was nearly vibrating with impatience and frustration when he heard a voice.

"What _happened?_"

A figure moved into a small patch of moonlight. Raphael saw the glint of the gold caps on his teeth, and snorted.

_Yeah, real bad-ass, you are. Idiot._

The kid turned, and the light fell on the purple dragon snaking up the boy's neck. Raph noted that the ink looked fresh. He hadn't been in the gang long.

Raphael scowled. _Great. Jus' great. He's right here, an' I'm stuck under dis mess. Guys, get here soon. Don't let him get away._

"Holy…" He heard the kid swear, and then the shifting of rubble. There was a _thump_ as the kid landed on his feet. He swore again, and Raph heard him rattling what sounded like a doorknob.

Raph smirked as the sounds grew more frantic. _Good. He can't get out. The others'll get here an' then we'll have him._

He shifted again, uncomfortable, listening for the boy's movements. He heard scrambling, then the scuff of sneakers as the kid tried climbing over some of the rubble. There was a sudden sliding rattle, a thud and a cry. Raphael tensed, listening, but he heard the kid's gasping breaths. Soon, he heard the rustle of cloth and the squeak of rubber soles against the concrete floor as the boy got slowly to his feet.

Raph tensed as he heard the shuffling footsteps move in his direction.

_Stay away, Kid. I don't wanna hafta hurt ya. _

The kid swore softly and Raph heard an unmistakable scraping, _swishing _sound that sent a chill racing down his shell.

_Oh no. No… Dat sounded like... Shell… I hate guns. _

He groped in the dark for the sai still tucked into his belt on the right. The left one was pinned under the beam. He could just get his hand on the pommel. Slowly, silently, he began to draw the weapon… just as something heavy and clumsy crashed into his right ankle and fell heavily across his legs with a heavy metallic clatter.

Raph let out a startled yell, pulling his feet in instinctively, but he only succeeded in slamming his knees into the beam. The kid scrambled away, crabbing across the floor, crying out. Small debris rained down, pelting Raph's head and neck. He lifted a hand to shield himself, but the shower lasted only a few seconds.

"Ya mind not doin' dat again, Kid?" he grumbled gruffly. "Ya want da whole buildin' ta come down on us 'r what?"

The kid swore loudly, and Raph heard him scrambling further back. There was a _thump_ and the scrabbling stopped. Raph could hear the boy gasping for breath a few yards to his left.

"Wh…who's there?" the boy managed finally.

Raph smirked in the dark. "Relax Kid, 'fore ya have a heart attack."

"Who's there? Who are you?"

"Name's Raphael. Guess dis ol' warehouse wasn't as sturdy as ya t'ought, huh? Not such a great place ta hide in." answered Raph. "Now quit squirmin' around 'fore ya have da whole place down on our heads."

"I know you. You… you're one of those… those Turtles!" The kid's voice was rising with panic. "You stay away from me! Don't you come any closer!"

"I ain't goin' nowhere, Kid," snapped Raph. "Jus' don't try not'in stupid an' I won't hafta hurt ya."

He smirked as he heard the boy scrabbling again in a panicked effort to move away from the sound of his voice.

_Dat's right. Ya don't wanna mess wit' me._

"I… I gotta gun… You stay back, you freak!" The boy's voice wavered and Raph heard him rustling.

He remained silent. _No sense in givin' him a target._

"Where… where are you? You stay away, you hear me? Stay away from me!" The boy's voice trailed off. There was a scuffling noise and a faint _thump_. Raph guessed he'd backed into something solid. The sound of fabric scraping against cinder-block confirmed that the boy had backed into a wall. Raph heard a muffled sob.

He barely suppressed a sigh. _Great. Jus' great. Stuck in here wit' a panicked, armed Purple Dragon punk. Perfect. The ol' Turtle luck, workin' true ta form._

He fingered his sai. He didn't need much light for an accurate throw, but the angle of the beam over his chest would obstruct his arm.

_Jus' stay over there, Kid, 'til my bros get here. I don't wanna hafta kill ya. _

The boy was silent now, save for occasional sniffs, which suited Raphael just fine. He shifted again, testing the weight of the beam, but it was as solid as ever, and the pressure against his plastron kept him pinned.

Raph sighed. _Hurry up, guys._

The faintest sound of movement outside had him tensing. Voices followed, not whispering, but speaking quietly.

"_Shell_, Leo, lookit that roof!"

Raph stirred. _Mikey!_

Soon he heard more voices, the most welcome sound in the world.

"Donny. Are you _sure_ this is the building Raph's signal tracks to?"

"Positive, Leo. He's inside, no doubt about it."

"Raph! Raphael! Can you hear me?" Leonardo's call was soft but carrying.

The kid cursed loudly, and Raphael heard him scramble away from the wall he'd been leaning on. He was coming closer to where Raph was, but by the sounds he was crawling, searching along the floor. Raph's hand tightened on his sai.

"In here, Bro. I got company, an' he's packin'."

"Leo! The kid's got a gun. What do we do?" Donatello's voice was loud enough for Raph to hear before Leonardo shushed him. The voices were silent now, though Raphael had no doubt they were planning something.

_Leo always has a plan,_ he thought, half irritated and half affectionate. _It won't be long now. Jus' wish they'd hurry up. Dis waitin' around stuff is gettin' old._

"Damn it, I know it's here… it was right here," the kid muttered as he scrabbled across the floor. "Ha!"

Raph's blood chilled as he heard the distinct sound of metal against concrete.

The boy was closer now, moving cautiously. Raphael could just make out his outline, crouching, feeling his way closer. He drew his sai. The throw would be awkward at best, but he had to stop the boy before he could shoot anyone.

The boy stopped suddenly, kneeling, and Raph swore under his breath. The angle was wrong. There was no way he could strike the boy with a thrown sai.

_I gotta get it in one, too,_ he thought bitterly. _I only got one shot at dis._

"You… Turtle guy. I know you're still here." The kid's voice wavered. "Quit messin' with me. The rest of 'em are here now too, so come on. What, you need all four of ya to take down one Purple Dragon?"

Raphael ignored the taunt with an effort. _He don't know I'm trapped. No sense givin' myself away._

"Raph! Raph, we're coming in. Just hold on, Bro," called Leonardo.

"No! He's got da gun, Fearless!" Raphael responded instinctively. _Can't let them come in here._

"I know, Raph. Don't worry. We're coming." Leonardo was using his authoritative, menacing tone. His voice went slightly lower, slightly quieter.

Raphael almost laughed. _He's still puttin' on a show for dis kid,_ he thought. _Tryin' ta scare 'im. Well, he's scared alright._

"You stay outta here!" shouted the boy. "Don't you come near me!"

Raph heard him scuffling backward again, coming straight for him this time. Before he could shout a warning, the boy backed straight up into the very beam that had him pinned. There was a terrible shrieking groan of metal and concrete, and the beam shifted again, traveling further down on Raph's left, and rocking to the side. Raphael's hoarse cry was lost in the noise of raining debris and his brother's shouts.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry, Raph... heh Y-eah, more of the wall came down. :( Well you didn't think this was going to be easy, right?  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4 Go

_Got the hood here snowed, but you can't fool me,  
>we both know who you are<em>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 4 ~Go<strong>_~

Casey Jones was pacing by the time Carl finished his story, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"So, ya jus' let yer little brother go off ta da city? Jus' like dat?"

Carl sighed. "I didn't _let_ him, Case. It wasn't like that."

"He's your _brother_, Carl!" Casey made a frustrated gesture with his hands. "He practically worshiped you when we were kids. What happened?"

"I've been working on Uncle Joe's place all summer. Joe fell out of the hay mound in the spring, busted up his leg. He needed the help… Johnny'd been restless for a while, and I guess he got worse after I left. He fought with Mom and Dad and took the old Cadillac. I wasn't even there. Liz told me about it."

"Lizzy? Da baby?"

Carl laughed. "Casey, she's seventeen. She's not a baby anymore. Neither is Johnny… John. He's twenty three. It's been ten years."

Casey stopped pacing to stare at Carl. Finally he shook his head, and sank down onto the couch.

"Damn, Carl. Seems like just last week we were crawlin' around your dad's hay mound catchin' snakes to scare Lizzy with. When did we all grow up?"

Before Carl could answer, his phone buzzed loudly at his hip.

"Hello?"

"_Carl? This… _cough…_ this is John._ _I… I ain't got… got much time. The wall fell, an' some of the roof. Them turtle guys are comin' an' I t'ink I killed one. It wasn't my fault, John. Ya gotta believe me. The wall fell on 'im, I didn't do not'in…"_

"What? Johnny, what're you talking about? Where are you? John, I'm in the city. I'll come get you…"

"_I'm sorry, Carl. I'm real sorry."_ There was a muffled sob.

"John! Johnny, hold on! We'll work this out! If it was an accident…"

"_It don't matter, Carl. You don't know what they're like. They're gonna get me._"

"Who? Who's going to get you, John? Where _are_ you?"

"_There ain't no time, Carl. I jus' wanted ta say…_ cough_… I'm sorry. Tell Ma. Tell 'er I'm sorry, fer the stuff I said to 'er. An' Liz and Dad… tell 'em… tell 'em I'm sorry, Carl. Tell 'em I loved 'em."_

"John! Johnny! Talk to me! _Where are you_? John?"

"_I'm sorry, Carl_._ I… I love ya._"

There was a distinct _click_ of the phone snapping shut, and the line went dead. Carl turned to Casey, who was staring.

"He… he's…" Carl felt cold, as if he'd never be warm again. "He said… he said they're going to kill him… Turtle guys… I don't know what the hell he could've been talking about. He's got to be on drugs. I've never heard him like that."

"Turtle guys?" Casey was on his feet, his fists clenched. "Carl, exactly what did he say?"

Carl stared at his friend, still too shocked to process the reason for his sudden urgency.

"Carl! What did Johnny say? What's goin' on?" Casey's accent thickened, and he reached out, as if he'd shake Carl, but he dropped his hands as if with a barely-controlled effort. "Carl, what did he say? _Where is he_?"

"He… he didn't say. Just that some guys were going to kill him. He said he'd killed one, and the others were going to kill him…"

"He _what?_" The fear and fury in Casey's eyes made Carl step back toward the door instinctively.

"He said it wasn't his fault. The wall fell. He's got to be in some kind of building… I've got to find him, Casey. He's my brother. I've got to go find him."

"What did he say, Carl? Who'd he kill? What's goin' on?"

Casey was pale, sweating, and his eyes were wide, staring into Carl's face as if he could find the answers there. Carl stared at his old friend, watching the emotions war in his eyes.

"You know about this, don't you?" Carl saw something flicker in Casey's gaze, and suddenly he was certain. He reached out, grabbing his old friend by the wrist.

"You know what he was talking about? Casey, if you know where John is, you've got to take me there. You've got to, right now. He's my _brother_, Casey. I've got to find him!"

Casey jerked back, but Carl refused to let go. He tightened his hold, but Casey twisted unexpectedly, and Carl's grip broke. He stood, staring at the other man. Casey was watching him, wary. There was a long moment of silence before Casey sighed.

"If Johnny's tangled wit' da guys… Carl… I might be able ta find 'im, but… but yer jus' gonna hafta trust me. I'll go, an' bring 'im back if I can. You stay here."

"No! Casey, I'm not staying here. He's my brother."

Casey was shaking his head, reaching for the bag of sporting equipment.

"It's too dangerous, Carl. They'd never understan'." He said it half to himself, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"Casey." Carl took the three strides necessary to close the distance between them again. "I don't know what John's gotten himself into, or what you've got to do with all this, but he's my _brother._ I'm _going._"

Casey turned, and studied Carl's face for a long moment. Carl returned his gaze steadily, unflinching, unmoving. Casey let out a heavy sigh, seeming to deflate.

"I known yous, you an John, a long time. I guess… I guess if ya can't trust ol' friends, I don't know who ya can trust. But, Carl… Well, yer jus' gonna hafta trust _me_. If yer comin' wit' me, ya gotta do as I say, ya got it?"

"Casey…"

Casey held up a hand to stop him. "Carl, there's stuff in dis world ya ain't gonna understand. God, Leo's gonna kill me…"

"What are you _talking_ about?"

Casey shook his head. "Never mind. Just stick close ta me an' don't do anyt'in' stupid, ok? When we get there, don't say not'in, an' let me do da talkin'. Oh, an' no sudden moves." He slipped the hockey mask on over his face.

"What? What do you mean, no sudden moves? Where are we going, Casey?" Carl stared. His friend looked dangerous, hooded, but he could see the glint of Casey's blue eyes behind the mask.

"I jus' hope Johnny's wrong. If somebody's… hurt… there might not be much I can do fer 'im." Casey headed for the door. "Come on. Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5 Alive

_Homeboy you're gonna wish one day you were sittin' on the gate of a truck by the lake  
>with your high school flame on one side, ice cold beer on the other…<br>_

_**Chapter 5 ~Alive**_~

Raph felt as if he'd been swimming in very deep, cold, dark water for a long time. Light… where was the light?… Up, of course. He should swim up, toward the light, toward the air, toward life… The water was dragging at him, pulling him down. It wanted to swallow him, to keep him buried below, in the dark, in the shadows forever. Well, it couldn't have him. Not without a fight. Raph doubled his efforts, though his limbs felt leaden and heavy and his lungs were screaming for air.

His arms wouldn't move. It was as if they weighed a ton. But the light… the light lay across his eyes like a whisper of silk, soothing, teasing, so close. Raphael strained, fighting the weight, fighting his way to the surface. His own breathing rasped in his ears… _breathing_.

He gasped involuntarily, expecting a lung-full of freezing water, but he drew in sweet, though slightly musty air. His eyes opened slowly, but they stung and everything was blurred. Water dripped down the sides of his face and he growled in irritation. Movement to his right made him try forcing his eyes open again. He blinked once, twice, and the dark blur became the dark outlines of shapes. Another blink and he could make out a little more of his surroundings.

"What… what da shell… what da shell happened?" he rasped.

There was a gasping cry and scuffling noise to his right that had him tensing, preparing to fight, but his arms were still too heavy, weighed down. Now Raphael was conscious enough to perceive that the weight wasn't water, it was solid and crushing. He squirmed, and managed to shift his right arm a little, but he couldn't move more than a few inches in any direction.

"You're… you're alive." The voice quavered with what sounded like a mixture of trepidation and hope.

"Yeah, Kid." Raphael huffed in annoyance. "_You_ ain't gonna be for long, though, if ya don't tell me what happened."

"The… the wall. Part of it... it fell," the kid managed. Raph heard rustling, then footsteps as the kid paced away. "I thought you were dead…"

"Where ya goin?" Raphael called, annoyed.

"I've got to get out of here," the kid muttered. "They won't take much longer. I don't know what's taking them so long. I got to get outta here, before the rest of 'em show up."

Raph had the feeling he wasn't talking to him. After a few minutes, though, the kid came back, kneeling a few feet to his right. He sat there, silent, for another long moment, before he spoke again.

"They think you're dead. They're gonna kill me. They were yelling before, calling you, after that wall fell. Your… your brothers. I heard them. They called you 'bro'. When you didn't answer, they got quiet, but I know they're coming."

"My bros ain't gonna kill ya, Kid," said Raph tiredly. "They just want that little doohickey you're carryin' fer Hun."

"They can have it. I just wanna get out of here." The kid stood up, moving away. "Anyway, if they don't get me, Hun an' the other PDs will. Why don't they come? What are they waiting for? Maybe they went away."

Raphael's laugh made his chest burn, and he coughed.

"They ain't left, Kid. They wouldn't."

"My name ain't Kid. It's John. John Robinson." The boy was sullen now. He came back. Raph could see his outline in the faint light from the moon. He was kneeling, just a few feet away. Raph's arm twitched with the desire to reach for his sai, but the beam had shifted further down and now he was well and truly pinned.

"I gotta brother too, ya know."

"Bet he's real proud," snarled Raph.

"His name's Carl," the boy continued. "I gotta sister too. Lizzy."

"Good fer you, Kid."

"It weren't supposed ta be like this," the boy muttered. He shifted, leaning forward so his forehead was resting on his knee. "Dan said if I came to the City he'd get me a job. He didn't tell me what it was. I didn't know…" He sighed. "By the time I figured out what Hun was, it was too late. And now Dan's gone and Carl'll never know what happened to me. Maybe it's better that way." He lifted his head, peering in Raph's direction. "If you ran away and joined a gang, would you want your brothers to know?"

"Kid, I wouldn't be so goddamn dumb in da first place," Raphael responded. "Why'd ya join da PDs anyway?"

_Not dat I care, but if I can keep ya distracted, it'll give my bros time ta find a way in here._

The kid laughed, a short, cold sound. "I didn't know. Dan said I'd be workin' in sales. Acquisitions, he called it. I can't believe I was so _stupid._"

_I can. _

"We all make mistakes, Kid," answered Raph.

The boy snorted. "Some mistake. Story of my life. Carl, he's the smart one in our family. Always has been. He's never been in trouble a day in his life. Not like me. Everything I do goes wrong."

_Boy, dat sounds familiar._

Raph cleared his throat. "I got a brother like dat too, Kid. Seems like he's gotta golden touch, huh?"

"Yeah." The boy chuckled. "Your brother, he's older than you?"

"Yeah." Raph surprised himself by answering. "He's da oldest." _If I can keep 'im calm, he's less likely ta start shootin'._

"Must be somethin' about being the oldest," the boy muttered. "Carl _always_ knows what he's doing. He'd never get himself into a mess like this. God, I wish he was here."

"What would yer brother say if he saw ya like dis, Kid?" asked Raphael gruffly. "Runnin' wit' da PD's, gettin' yer butt kicked by a buncha Turtles on a regular basis?" He smirked.

"My brother would never believe me if I told him about you. Hell, _I _wouldn't believe me."

A buzzing sound had the kid nearly falling over backward, and Raphael saw him lift his arm, waving it about wildly. He saw the glint of metal in the kid's hand, as the space flooded with light.

"What the hell?" the kid yelled, leaping to his feet.

Raph blinked. In the light, he could see the boy clearly for the first time. He looked young, with close-cropped bleached-blond hair and wide brown eyes. He stared wildly around, pointing his arm in the direction of the buzzing sound.

"I'll use it! You stay away, or I swear I'll use it!" he yelled, his eyes wide in his pale face.

Raph sucked in a sharp breath. The gun was in John's hand.

_Oh, shell._


	6. Chapter 6 A Meeting

**A/N: Thanks to Web Mistress Gina for catching my goof in putting this chapter up out of order yesterday! Can't believe I did that...  
>Well, yes, actually, I can. :-p heh Thanks, WMG!<strong>_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>Ain't no shame in a blue collar forty, little house little kids little small town story…<br>If you don't ever do anything else for me just do this for me brother... come on home, boy  
><em>

_**Chapter 6 ~A meeting**_~

Carl followed Casey Jones out to where a sleek black motorcycle was parked on the street. Casey handed him a helmet and straddled the bike, motioning for Carl to get on the back as he flipped open an oddly-shaped cell phone.

"Casey, wait, we can take my truck…"

"There ain't no time, if ya wanna get yer brother back. Get on," responded Casey sharply. He punched a series of numbers, and Carl heard a faint ringing from Casey's phone as he climbed onto the bike. He didn't put his helmet on right away. He wanted to hear who Casey was talking to.

The ringing went on and on.

"Damn it, Raph…"

Casey hung up and dialed again. This time someone answered.

"Leo? Leo, where are ya?" Casey practically shouted into the phone. "Don't you hang up on me, _damn_ it…"

He swore and snapped the phone shut again. "That stubborn pain in da… he's got a stick shoved so far up his shell… jus' wait til I get there…" He dialed again, scowling and grumbling all the time.

"Don…" A muffled grumble, followed by a _click_, and Casey swore loudly. "Son of a… You wait til I get my hands on those guys…" He punched the numbers for a third time, so hard Carl was sure the phone's casing would crack under the assault.

"Mikey. _Don't you hang up on me_. I know yous guys're in trouble, but ya gotta_ listen_ ta me. Where are yous guys?"

Carl could hear muffled words from the other end, but couldn't make out what was being said.

Casey swore. "Mike, I'm comin', an' I got help. Is Raph ok?"

A brief, muffled answer and Carl saw Casey's shoulders slump.

"Listen, there's a kid in there wit' Raph…" Casey paused. "Yeah, I know… He's got a _what?... _Listen, Mike, I t'ink da kid wit' Raph is my buddy's brother. I'm comin' over there. Tell Leo ta jus' sit tight a minute. Don't do not'in 'til I get there! Tell 'im ta wait. We're gonna get Raph outta there, Mike, I promise. Tell Leo I'll explain when we get there."

"_Whatdaya mean 'we'?"_ Carl heard the squawk as Casey took the phone away from his ear.

"Where are we going?" asked Carl. "Who was that?"

"Some buddies o' mine. They're good people, Carl, ya gotta know dat goin' in. Johnny's got 'imself inta a mess. He's mixed up wit' dem Purple Dragon scum, an' dat's real bad news. Carl, Mikey says he's got a gun."

"A gun? What's going on, Casey?" Carl gripped his friend's shoulder. "Where's John? Who are these guys?"

"They're good guys, Carl," Casey told him firmly. "They do more fer dis city than anybody I know. Yer jus' gonna hafta trust me. If anybody can get John outta dis in one piece, it's dem. If he starts shootin', somebody's gonna get hurt, an' it's proba'ly gonna be him. An' Carl… if he's hurt my buddy, they ain't da ones he's gotta worry about." Casey's blue eyes were hard as flint.

"John wouldn't…"

"Mike said he's holed up in a warehouse, an' Raph's trapped in there with 'im. He was talkin' to 'em before but some more o' da wall fell in. I don't know what's goin' on, but we gotta get over there."

"Johnny…" Carl passed a hand over his face. "Liz said he took Dad's old .45. Damn it, John."

Casey nodded. "They won't hurt 'im unless they hafta, Carl. They ain't killers. But they gotta get Raph outta there, 'fore da cops an' stuff show up."

"Why? Casey, who _are_ these people?" Carl demanded, suspicious.

Casey just shook his head and slipped on his own helmet. "Put on yer helmet, Carl. It's gonna be a fast ride."

True to his word, Casey Jones made it across town in record time. He pulled up in front of an alley, sliding off the bike and taking off his helmet in one practiced motion. He adjusted the bag that'd hung low at his side so that it was strapped across his back and slid the hockey mask up so that it rested on top of his head.

He headed into the alley as Carl struggled to unbuckle the helmet. He got it undone, and pulled it off in time to hear a soft voice carry from somewhere nearby.

"_I got the light on inside, Leo, but the kid's panicking… We can't risk anything as long as he has that gun… Why hasn't Raph done anything? He's got to be stuck or something…_"

"Leo? Don? Mike? Where are ya?" Casey's voice echoed eerily in the brick-lined tunnel between two buildings.

Carl waited, but there was no immediate answer. Hurrying to catch up with Casey, he stumbled, and looked down. Bits of brick and broken masonry littered the pavement. Looking up, he saw that part of the wall appeared to have collapsed in the building to his right. He could make out the ragged edge where the roof should've been.

_Is Johnny in there? Please let him be all right…_

"Leo! Don, Mike!" Casey called again, angry and urgent. "Dis ain't no time fer playin' hide-n-go-seek! Where are ya?"

Swift movement ahead reminded Carl of a deer making an impossibly silent escape through the brush, but whatever it was approached rather than retreating.

Carl stared as the dim streetlight revealed the creature. His world seemed to tilt, leaving everything feeling unreal, blurred. He blinked, and blinked again, but the thing kept coming closer, appearing like a wraith out of the shadows. The blue bandana around its eyes, the bulging muscles and the forest-green skin slid past Carl's confused mind without sticking in his consciousness. His eyes were glued to the long, thin, wickedly sharp sword the creature held in one hand.

"Leo." Casey Jones stepped forward, and Carl had to repress a sudden urge to grab him, to haul him back, out of reach of that deadly sword. He remembered Casey's warning, and had a feeling any sudden movements on his part would end badly. Casey, on the other hand, didn't seem to recognize the danger. He moved toward the creature as if greeting an old friend.

"There ya are, Leo ya jerk. Ya shouldn'ta hung up on me before. I was tryin' ta tell ya I can help."

"Casey." The creature did not sound happy to see them. "What are you doing here? Who _is_ this?"

Carl took a step back.

"Dis is my buddy, Carl," answered Casey. "It's cool, Leo. We grew up together. Carl's ok. Carl, I want yas ta meet Leonardo. It's his brother, Raph, dat Johnny's got cornered in there." Casey turned to Carl, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Raph's my bes' frien', Carl, an' he's like a brother ta me, too, understan'? We gotta get 'em out. We gotta get 'em _both_ out, an' yer gonna help."

Carl nodded, swallowing hard against the surreal feeling, willing the world to stop spinning for a moment so he could regain the feeling of solid ground under his feet. He looked directly into the creature's brown eyes and, in that strange green face, recognized the same worry, fear and frustration he felt.

_Casey said its… his… brother is in there. _

"John's my brother," he said softly. The creature watched him, cold, calculating. "I just want my brother back safely," said Carl. "I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what to do."

The Turtle watched him warily for a long moment more before he sheathed the sword with a liquid-smooth movement that made Carl blink.

"All right," said the creature. His glare flicked to Casey, and back to Carl. "I'm holding _you_ responsible for him, Casey. Make sure he doesn't get in our way."

"It's cool, Leo." Casey made a placating gesture with his hands.

The Turtle shook his head and turned away. "Come on."


	7. Chapter 7 Johnny

_I been haulin' this hay on Uncle Joe's farm  
>Thought of us bare foot kids in the yard<br>Man it seems we were just catchin' snakes in the barn  
>now you're caught up in this mess<br>_

**_Chapter 7 ~Johnny_**~

"Don't shoot, Kid!" Raphael called as the boy waved the gun, sudden fear for his brothers propelling him to try to sit up.

He might as well have tried jumping to the moon. He grunted, pressing hard against the beam that held him down, no longer caring if it fell, if it crushed him, but it was unmoving, firmly wedged in place.

"Don't you… What the hell…" The kid swore, and crouched, blinking.

Raph shifted until he could just make out a small light bulb near the door.

"Relax, kid, it's jus' a light," he growled.

"What're they doing?" The kid backed up against the crates, his eyes wide and wild.

"Mebbe they didn't do anyt'in, ya know? Da light coulda come on by itself."

"I heard them, messing around out there before. They did it on purpose," John babbled, shaking with tension. "They're tryin' to freak me out. Well it ain't gonna work! If they come in here, I'll shoot 'em! They ain't gonna get me."

"I tol' ya, kid, jus' put dat gun down an' ya won't get hurt," said Raph, forcing himself not to shout with an effort. "My bros won't hurt ya, but if ya start shootin', they're gonna defend themselves. Ya don't wanna do dis, Kid believe me."

"Shut up! Just shut up!" The kid shrank against the crates, his eyes wide. A soft scraping sound came from near the door.

"Leo! Don't come in here. He's gotta gun!" yelled Raph in desperation.

"Raph! Raph, is that you? Shut up, Mikey, I thought I heard Raphael!" Donatello's answer was the sweetest sound Raph had ever heard.

"I'm here Donny! 'm ok, jus' stuck under some stuff. Da kid's gotta gun!"

"Shut up," screamed the boy. "Shut up… Don't you come in here!"

The kid had his back pressed to the crates, and he pointed the gun toward the door, his eyes wide as he stared around the warehouse.

"Hey, Kid… John. Chill." Raph tried to keep his voice calm, quiet. "Relax, Kid. I tol' ya, they ain't gonna hurt ya if ya jus' put da gun down an' give up. They're gonna get us outta dis. Nobody's gotta get hurt."

"Shut up," whimpered the boy again, turning to glare at him. "Just shut up. I gotta think. I gotta get outa here."

"John." Leonardo's voice was quieter this time, less menacing.

Raphael blinked. _What da shell… How does Leo know dis kid's name?_

"John, listen to me. Nobody wants to hurt you. We just want to get our brother back. Donatello got you some light on in there. Can you see Raphael? Can you tell us if he's all right? We're trying to find a way in but the building is unstable."

_Da buildin' ain't da only unstable t'ing aroun' here,_ thought Raph as he watched the kid. The boy was shaking violently, pressing himself back against the crates.

"Raph?" Leo called. "Can you talk to me, Bro? Are you ok?" His voice was strained.

"I'm ok, Leo," he called.

"Raph! Hang on, we're coming."

The kid spun, pointing the gun wildly in his direction. "I said shut up!"

For once, Raph did as he was told, but he glared back at the boy until the kid turned away, his eyes flickering to the door.

"Listen, Kid. John. If ya don't want my bros stormin' in here, ya gotta let 'em know I'm ok," he said calmly.

The boy ignored him, training the gun on the door. "How'd I get myself into this?" he asked no one in particular. "I called Carl before… I called my brother, while you were out. He said he'd come for me…" He choked on a sob. "Said he was in the city, but it's too late. I wanted to leave… I was leavin'. I was gonna go home. Just one more heist, Danny said. Just get this done, and then Hun'll be too busy with his big plan to hunt you down… But then you guys got Dan, an' now they're gonna get me, too…"

"You wanna leave da Purple Dragons?" Raph couldn't hide his surprise.

"Too late now, ain't it?" The boy's voice was hard.

"No, Kid, it ain't. It ain't never too late. You said you got a brother, here in da City, right? You got a family? What da they t'ink of ya bein' a PD?"

"They don't know," said John quietly. He slumped back against the crates, lowering the gun. "They won't even know what happened to me."

"Raph? We're going to try something, ok? If this works, we'll be in in a few minutes."

"Don't you come in here!" The boy's voice cracked and the gun came up again. "You stay away, or I swear I'll shoot!"

"John? Johnny? Are you in there? John, it's Carl."

The boy was on his feet as if someone had touched him with a cattle prod. "_Carl?_"

"John, it's me. Are you all right? What's going on in there?"

Raphael felt cold. _Another human? Where da shell did he come from?_

The boy scrambled to his feet. "Carl! Carl, get away from here! Those Turtle guys are out there! You gotta get out of here!"

"John, it's ok. They're right here, with me. They're trying to get you out…"

"You let my brother go!" screamed John. "You guys leave him alone, or I swear I'll kill this one!"

Raphael blinked as the kid cocked the gun, swinging it in his direction. He stared down the black tunnel where death lurked and swallowed.

_Shell, I hate guns._


	8. Chapter 8 Brothers

_You can't hold back the hands of time  
>Momma's goin' grey and so is Daddy's mind<br>I wish you'd come on back and make it alright  
>before they're called…home, boy<br>_

_**Chapter 8 ~Brothers**_~

Carl surged forward at his brother's shout, but a firm hand stopped him in his tracks. He turned, startled, and stared into the dark brown eyes of the blue-masked… Turtle.

He was still trying to get his mind around this. Casey's friends had turned out to be mutants. Giant Turtles that walked and talked, and carried deadly-looking weapons. Warriors, Casey'd called them. Ninjas. Vigilantes, who stalked the night, hunting the city's predators. Hunting the Purple Dragons, and putting a stop to their criminal activities whenever they could.

Leonardo, the one who'd grabbed him, let his hand fall away. He was watching Carl with a mix of wariness and suspicion. His expression hadn't changed since he'd first appeared out of the shadows. He reminded Carl of a jungle cat, coming cautiously to the water. The controlled power in the way he moved, the unnatural grace, was disconcerting. Carl understood now, Casey's reluctance to have him come along, but he wasn't about to let this Turtle stand between him and his kid brother.

"I'm going in there," he said firmly.

Leonardo shook his head, but it was the one in purple who answered.

"The building's still too unstable," he said, looking up from where he was crouching, a small device in his hand. He'd been waving the thing over various parts of the wall for ten minutes now, muttering numbers to himself. "Opening the door could bring the rest of the roof in."

"My _brother's_ in there," snapped Carl.

His initial instinctive fear of the creatures had faded somewhat as he watched Casey converse with the one he now knew to be the leader, explaining, cajoling, sounding so much like the old Casey he'd known for so long. If City-Boy Jones wasn't afraid of these Turtle-things, Carl wasn't about to let his own doubts show through.

"Our brother's in there too," replied Leonardo quietly. "We're going to get them out, but you've got to listen to Don. He knows what he's doing."

"Can't we _do _somethin' already?" asked the one in the orange mask. "Leo, Raph's in there, an' that kid..."

"I _know_, Mikey," answered Leonardo with more patience than Carl would've expected. "I know. We're doing all we can. We're going to get him out."

Carl glanced at the one they called Mikey. His wide, expressive blue eyes showed the most emotion of the three, and at the moment, worry and determination were clear.

"I want my brother back too, uh, Mike," said Carl, addressing him for the first time.

The Turtle glanced at him and nodded. "_Your_ brother's the one I'm worried about, Dude," he responded. "He's the one with the gun."

"I know." Carl shook his head. "But Johnny… he wouldn't shoot nobody. He doesn't even like hunting…" he trailed off, uncertain. These creatures might look like animals on the outside, but it was clear they were more human than anything else.

Donatello stood up. "Leo, if Raph's hurt, we've got to get him out of there. Even if the building doesn't come down entirely, we don't have much longer before somebody notices this damage." He gestured toward the building. "I'm surprised the authorities haven't arrived already."

"I know, Don, but I don't want the kid to panic and start shooting," said Leonardo pensively.

"The _kid_ has a name," snapped Carl. "It's John."

Leonardo turned toward him, and Carl tensed, ready for confrontation, but the Turtle just studied him. "I know this is frustrating for you, Carl. I'm sorry," he said. "We're doing all we can, but we can't risk going in and having him shoot Raph."

Carl blinked, and glanced at Casey Jones. "_How_ old did you say they are?"

"What?" Casey looked at him, confused.

"I'm seventeen," answered Leonardo, the slightest smile tugging at his wide mouth.

Carl almost grinned, but shook his head. "John's twenty three," he said. "And I'm twenty-seven. You're handling this better than either of us."

"I've had a lot of experience dealing with brothers," said Leonardo.

"Maybe when this is over, you can give me some pointers," answered Carl with a wry smile. "But right now, I just want to get mine out of there in one piece."

"We will. If we can just calm him down long enough to put that gun down, we'll get them both out," answered Leo.

"Let me talk to him again. He'll listen to me," Carl pleaded.

Leonardo nodded.

"John?" called Carl. "Hey, Johnny. It's me."

"Carl?" John's voice carried clearly. "Are them Turtle-guys still out there? Are you ok? I swear, if they hurt ya I'll shoot this one. I will!"

Carl heard his brother's voice crack. Beside him, Leonardo was nearly quivering with tension. Carl could _feel_ the rage and worry pouring off him like heat.  
><em>If John shoots his brother, he'll kill him. <em>The thought slid through his mind, but he tried to ignore it. _I'm going to get him out of this. He's just got to _listen_ to me, for once in his life. _

"No! No, John, don't do anything. It's ok. Calm down. Just relax. I'm fine, I promise. Listen to me. You've got to put the gun down. Please, John. They can help but you've got to put the gun down."

"No! You don't get it, do you, Carl? I put this gun down and we're _both_ dead!"

"Johnny… listen to me. Please. There isn't much time. They can get you out but you've got to put that gun down. Please, John."

"I… I can't, Carl. It's too late for that now. You get out of here. If they let ya go I won't hurt this one. You tell them, they can have him, and this stupid little box they were after, but they gotta let you go."

Leonardo stirred, the first sign of impatience he'd shown. Carl ignored him, focusing on his brother's voice. "John." He leaned forward, resting his head against the cold, rough brick. "John, you've got to trust me. Let me handle this. You gotta come home. I can't go back and tell Liz…" He stopped, swallowing hard. "Listen, John. Pop… He's not doin' so good. Mom's got all she can do to take care of him. We… we need you at home, Johnny. Please. You've got to come home."

"Dad? What's wrong with him?" John's voice wavered.

"It's Alzheimer's, John, like Grampa had."

Beside him, Casey Jones shifted, drawing a sharp breath. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Carl didn't have to look up to know whose it was. Casey'd spent as much time with their father as they had. John Sr. had referred to him as 'my other boy'.

"That's why he said what he said to you. He didn't mean it, John. Please, you gotta come home. While he still knows you. While you can still make it right. Please. Just put the gun down. They won't hurt you."

"I… I don't care what they do to me," John responded.

"I _do_," snapped Carl, his fists clenching in frustration. "Damn it, John. Quit playing like you're a big-city gangster and _listen to me._"

Leonardo cleared his throat. "John, I know you don't trust us, but we haven't hurt your brother, and we promise not to hurt you. I give you my word of honor. Your family needs you. And my family needs Raphael. Let us help you. We can get you out, but you've got to put the gun down. We just want our brother back."

"Me too," muttered Carl.

There was a long pause. "O… Ok. I… I'm puttin' it down. You… you can come in. I give up. Just don't hurt my brother."

A gruff voice called out from inside.

"He's tellin' da truth, Leo. He took da clip out an' he's set it down."

Leonardo let out an audible sigh of relief. He motioned to Donatello, who nodded.

"Let's do this."


	9. Chapter 9 Thanks

**A/N: An epilogue, of sorts. Thanks are below, as always. Sorry this one was so short... I promise my next fic will be longer! :)**_  
><em>

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><p><em>Homeboy… come on, homeboy.<br>Come on home… boy._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 9 ~Thanks<strong>_~

Raphael glared across the room at Casey. Long silences were nothing new between them, but Casey'd been quiet so long Raph knew something was up.

"What's goin' through dat thick head o' yers, Jones?" he growled.

"Huh?" Casey turned to look at his friend. Raph saw the flicker in his eyes, regret and anger, as his gaze landed on his plastron.

Raphael let out a heavy sigh. "Eyes up here, ya pervert." He smirked when Casey's wide blue eyes snapped up to his face.

"Hey! I ain't no pervert… Yer too ugly fer me anyway, ya freak," Casey returned, his shock melting into a familiar grin.

"_I'm_ ugly? Ya looked in a mirror lately?" Raph shot back.

He repressed the urge to rub his hand over the scar that still marred his plastron. It didn't ache anymore, and it was slowly healing over, just as Donatello had predicted it would. He'd been lucky, in more ways than one. Donny'd been frantic to get the beam off his brother, even though Raph assured him he felt fine. It had been surprisingly easy, with three brothers working together to lift on the beam, to slide out from under.

By the time they'd gotten him loose, Carl had managed to talk Casey Jones into taking his kid brother back to his apartment on the motorcycle. Raph figured it was just as well that the kid was out of the way. The tension pouring off Leo in waves when he'd set the beam down and come over to help Raph up was so strong Raph was surprised he wasn't vibrating.__

_"You ok, Bro?"_ was all Leo'd asked, but Raphael knew his brother well enough to recognize the breaking point when he saw it.

_"Yeah, Fearless. 'm ok."  
><em>

He'd looked at the remaining human, vaguely curious, but more concerned with getting out of that warehouse and getting home. Carl had been waiting, standing well back out of the way, until the three brothers had succeeded in freeing Raphael. Once Raph was out, he approached Leo cautiously. Raph had nearly growled as he came closer, but he was having trouble holding himself upright. The crushing weight had left his limbs tingling, as if his muscles had fallen asleep. Don and Mike moved to either side and Leo stood firmly in front of him, as if they needed to guard him. Raphael smirked at the thought. The guy was clearly no threat. He was trembling, and stopped well back, giving Leonardo plenty of space.

_"Is he ok?"_ The man's eyes flicked past Leo to Don. Raphael forced himself to stand straighter, glaring, but the man returned his gaze steadily, with more awe than fear.

_"He'll be fine._" Leonardo was watching the man like a hawk.

"_Good. I'm sorry my brother caused you so much trouble. He won't bother you again,_" Carl assured them. He hesitated, but spoke to Leo again. _"Can I... talk to you? Just for a minute? I know you want to get him home..." _The human trailed off under Leonardo's predatory gaze, but Leo'd nodded once, gesturing to the others. _"Go. I'll catch up."_

_"Fearless..." _

Leo'd ignored Raph's protest.

"_Come on, Raph. We need to get out of here,"_ Don's voice was so firm, Raph didn't argue. He recognized Donny's need to check him over, to assure himself his brother's limbs were all in working order. He let Don and Mike crowd him up the fire escape without protest. They waited five minutes on the roof before Leonardo joined them.

"_Let's get out of here._"_  
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Leonardo'd insisted on making just one more stop that night. They stood on the docks, and he pitched the gun, in pieces, into the East River.

_Shell,_ thought Raph. _Never t'ought I'd be so glad ta get back underground. Dat was a hell of a night.  
><em>

"Can't you two agree that you're both equally handsome and leave it at that?" Leonardo's voice startled Raph so badly, he nearly toppled off the chair.

"Damn it, Leo, I tol' ya, don't _do_ dat!" Casey snapped, his irritation a clear sign Leo'd startled him as badly as Raph.

"Sorry." Leonardo grinned, sliding the window closed behind him. "What're you two up to?"

"We're jus' hangin' out, Fearless," said Raphael. "Case here's been admirin' da view."

Whatever Casey might've said was cut off by the buzz of his cell phone. He snatched it out of his pocket.

"Yo, talk ta me."

Raphael rolled his eyes, but Casey ignored him, his face lighting up.

"_Carl_! How're things on the farm? You keepin' that brother of yours out of trouble?..."

Leonardo tensed, and Raphael shifted, uneasy. There was something about Casey being friends with the brother of a Purple Dragon… a _former_ Purple Dragon, that didn't set well with him.

_Leo don't like it, neither. He still ain't forgave Casey fer bringin' Carl in dat night. Good t'ing he did though. If he hadn't showed up, dat kid woulda shot me fer sure._

He waited while Casey paced, punctuating his comments with hand gestures. He didn't get much from hearing one side of the conversation.

"Yeah?... Oh, yeah I remember… Yeah?... Ok… Sounds good…. You too, Carl…. What?... Wait a minute, he's right here. Ya can tell 'im yerself."

Both Turtles tensed as Casey held out the phone.

"He wants ta talk ta ya, Leo."

"Um… all right, I guess," said Leonardo, reluctantly taking the cell from Casey. He held it delicately, as if he expected it to bite.

"Yes, this is Leonardo."

In almost any other circumstances, Raphael would've rolled his eyes, smirking at his brother's tension. _Shell, Fearless. It's a phone. He can't get ya._

"I'm happy to hear that… Good… Yes, I understand…" Leonardo chuckled. "It sounds as if you're doing really well… You're welcome. Take care, Carl… No problem. Goodbye."

When he hung up, Raphael was glaring at him, his arms crossed over his chest.

"John's going back to school," said Leonardo, his tone casual. He handed Casey back his cell phone. "There's a college not far from their uncle's farm. He's studying architecture."

"Imagine, little Johnny, designin' buildin's an' stuff." Casey shook his head.

"Yeah, guess dat's a step up from da Purple Dragons," said Raph.

"I _tol_' ya, he's changed," said Casey. "John weren't no bad kid, jus' a little dumb. Carl'll keep 'im outta trouble."

_As long as he keeps 'im outta da City,_ thought Raph grimly.

"I hope so," said Leonardo with a faint smile. "It sounds as if they're doing better."

"He will, Leo. You'll see. Dat family's tight. They look out fer each other," insisted Casey.

"Well, I'm glad John's doing something constructive with his life," said Leonardo. "Are you two ready to head down? Mikey wants to get movie night started. We even managed to get Don out of the lab."

"Now dat's a minor miracle," said Casey with a grin. "I'll meet yous guys down there, ok? I promised Ape I'd pick 'er up."

"Sounds good, Casey," said Leo easily. "You ready to head out, Raph?"

"Yeah, Fearless, I'm comin'," said Raph without much rancor. Leonardo'd relaxed quite a bit in the past couple of weeks since the accident. They all had. Even Mikey wasn't glued _quite_ as tightly to Raph's shell. Still, Raphael knew he'd be glad when his brothers got over the whole incident entirely and things went back to normal. Deliberately avoiding arguments with Leo was beginning to wear on his nerves.

"See ya, Case."

Raphael followed his brother out into the night, heading up the fire escape to make their way to their usual manhole cover a few blocks away via rooftop. He debated for about three seconds before deciding it was time to stop tiptoeing around with Leo.

_He was right ta be mad. I shouldn'ta gone off on my own dat night, but it's time we both got over it. Me bein' dumb once don't mean he gets ta jus' do whatever he wants without me gettin' on his shell about it._

"What was dat all about, Fearless?" he demanded once they'd reached the roof.

Leonardo paused, turning to face his brother, his expression unreadable. "What? The phone call? It was nothing, Raph."

"Leo…"

Leonardo looked away. Raphael watched him, frowning. If he didn't know better, he would've thought Leo looked embarrassed.

"Raph, honestly, it was nothing." He looked up finally, meeting Raph's eyes, and sighed.

"Ok. That night, he wanted to thank me. For giving him a chance to save his brother."

"Lucky fer him," muttered Raph.

Leonardo nodded, and went on. "I talked to him a little. About his brother. About… some of the things that… can go wrong, you know? About how to handle him better. He just wanted… to let me know they're doing better."

"Ya mean ya talked about how ya _handle_ me?" Raph bristled, his fists clenching.

"No. Raph, listen… All I told him was… he needs to respect his brother," said Leo quietly. "He needs to be there for him. To listen to him, and, once he's proved he can handle things, to trust him to make decisions for himself."

Raphael stared at his brother a moment longer. Leonardo returned his gaze steadily, not backing down.

Finally Raphael gave him a short nod. "Ya done good, Bro."

A slow smile spread across Leo's face. "Thanks."

Raphael shook his head. _Lookit us, gettin' all sentimental._

Leonardo's smile turned mischievous, an expression Raph didn't see often from his eldest brother.

"Race you."

Raphael laughed. It felt good, to be here in the clear night, with his brother, about to kick his shell in a roof-top foot race. Yes. Life was good.

He nodded, smirking. "See ya at home, Bro."

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><p><strong>AN: And that, dear friends, is that... at least for now. **

**I'll try to update my profile occasionally to keep interested readers up to date on upcoming stories. Currently I'm writing the sequel to _Heroes and Friends_, titled _Hero's Return_. It's going to be a while, I'm afraid. College, freelancing and homeschooling our son is going to be eating up a lot of my time, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to begin posting, but I promise I haven't disappeared forever. Meanwhile, be sure to check out the amazing fics-in-progress I mentioned in my Chapter 1 A/N by my AWESOME beta readers! **

**Many thanks to Melody Winters, Fair Drea and DuckiePray. Without their support and input, I likely would not have finished this story, let alone posted it. **

**And thanks, as always, to those who took the time to read and review this little tale:**

**_TigerToa_- who made me giggle with her first review "NOO Raph!... welcome back, Mikell, nice to see you..." LOL  
><em>DuckiePray<em>- who, as always, rocks my TMNT world. Can not WAIT to see this gal's original fiction on the bookshelves!  
><em>MelodyWinters<em>- Who sleeps about as much as Don and is just as smart, tho she tries to deny it. Love you, Girl!  
><em>Leonardo1885<em>- Another author rocking the TMNT-verse with her awesome fics! :)  
><em>Britteny of Angels<em>- For a nice review  
><em>Laughter's Tears<em>- For making me laugh with her sarcasm "yeah, the hockey mask is 'for keeping up the reputation'" heh  
><em>artychick7<em>- For nice reviews and also for her amazing depictions of scenes from _Leonardo's Angel_, which you can see on Deviant Art under the same screen-name. I am continually amazed at the talent and generosity! *hugs  
><em>Margui<em>- for kind reviews. :)  
><em>Goddess Hanyuu-<em> for inspiration, for awesome translation and beta help in my earlier fics, and for being awesome. :)  
><em>Linzerj<em>- For epic foreshadowing, sensing a rescue mission ;)  
><em>Icy Rundas<em>- for "Nothing's ever easy with you, Mikell", which made me lol... because it's so true. ;)  
><em>Karrey<em>- for loving suspense.  
><em>chibiwolf33<em>- for loving cliffies  
><em>ZathuraRoy<em>- for foresight :)  
><em>LilNinjaWolf-<em> for hoping Raph's not dead  
><em>notawordsmith<em>- for such a kind review! :')  
><em>Twilightlvr5- <em>for reading despite the cliffies.  
><em>Jenihenpen<em>- for being gripped.  
><em>WebMistressGina-<em>for catching my goof *blushing* and for watching for grammar and other goofs :)  
><em>Silverdragonstar<em>- for liking Carl and Leo's meeting. heh  
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**Until next time! _Doomo arigato_, and _sayoonara_!  
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